Control
by KateCyrus
Summary: Dean finally rescues his brother, but his moment of relief passes quickly as he comes to realize the blood draining from Sam’s arm isn’t the only factor placing him in danger.
1. Chapter 1

Hey – this is just a quick heads up to anyone who has already read this piece.

When I first posted it I was totally new to fan fiction and now that I'm a little more familiar with this site, I'm thinking it should have been broken down into chapters. There are also some flashbacks, and I'm hoping the breakdown will help section those out from the rest of the story.

So, over the next few days I'll be reposting it in chapters and making some minor revisions along the way. Sorry to anyone who thought a new chapter was being added. : (

* * *

"Dean!" Sam shouts to his Brother as he lies on the table, his arms and legs strapped down. Straining, he lifts his head as much as possible and twists to get a look around. The room is the size of an average living room. The walls, ceiling and floor all concrete, filthy and crumbling at the corners and down the walls. It's slowly falling in on itself, the way cement clumps apart after years of moisture getting in when the ground surrounds it. There's nothing. Nothing helpful, nothing that explains the situation, nothing except the table he's strapped to. Resembling a cool stainless steal counter top, it contrasts the basement, clean and smooth, with a warped shine to it. As he jerks and thrashes to break free, the table doesn't budge. It's noticeable weight twisting his thoughts to only imagine what is concealed on it's underside. Feelings of unease rise, as he accepts that this table was designed to bind a person helpless, and was designed well. His thoughts push into the realization that the table has some secondary purpose. "I don't wanna know what I'm strapped here for," Sam says under his breath. 

"Dean! Wake up!" Dean is across the room, his arms stretched above his head and handcuffed together over a pipe. The pipe runs roughly a foot below, and parallel to the ceiling, its ends penetrating opposite walls of the room. No wider than four inches, it's solid and discolored, with small flakes of rust crusting its surface. It holds him suspended almost completely off the ground, his feet only scraping the floor. He's been hit hard in the face. He has a bruise matted with blood just above his left eye, and the blood dripping from his lip looks like it would hurt if he were awake to feel it. "Dean, wake up! You're dripping blood all over you're Black Sabbath t-shirt." Nothing. Sam had woken ten minutes ago, with no memory of how he got here. Other than inspecting their surroundings, and yelling at his Brother, he had accomplished little to rectify their situation. He lets out a deep breath of failure and drops his head back onto the table. Then he hears it. Dean groans.

Sam shoots up, straining against the straps. "Dean! Dean I need you to wake up. Now Dean!" Dean's head rolls back and his eyes open just a little. As Dean focuses through the tiny slits, he starts to wake, and register the shit situation they're in. He groans again. Sam assumes it's because he can finally feel the hit to his mouth, and hanging from the ceiling probably isn't too comfortable either.

"Where the Hell are we?" Dean spits out both words and blood, remembering little about how he got here.

"I'm not sure, the basement," Sam says. "Basically, I know what you see."

"Well right now, I can't see much." Dean shakes his head, squinting. "I'm not even wearing my Black Sabbath shirt." He sighs. "How much trouble are we in?"

"I'm seriously strapped down here. I can't move much to get to anything, hence my yelling your name for the past ten minutes."

"Right." Dean looks up and tries to drag the cuffs across the pipe, searching for a weak spot. Again, nothing. "Not looking good here either."

"Great." Sam sighs as Dean drops out of consciousness, his head falls briefly to his chest, then pops up again. "Are you okay?" Sam asks concerned.

"Yeah," Dean insists, "my eye site's just a little blurry." Tightening his vision, he tries to focus on his Brother. He lets out a long breath. "There," he says with triumph, "I can almost see you!"

"That's helpful. That should get us out of here in no time."

"Actually, now that I can see you, you don't look so good."

"Really."

"No." Dean smirks. "You look pretty screwed."

"Yeah well, I'm glad you finally woke up so you could tell me that."


	2. Chapter 2

Hey – this is just a quick heads up (same heads up as in chapter 1) to anyone who has already read this piece.

When I first posted it I was totally new to fan fiction and now that I'm a little more familiar with the site, I'm thinking it should have been broken down into chapters. There are also some flashbacks, and I'm hoping the breakdown will help section those out from the rest of the story.

So, over the next few days I'll be reposting it in chapters and making some minor revisions along the way. Sorry to anyone who thought a new chapter was being added. : (

* * *

Less than an hour earlier the two of them were checking out an abandoned house.

Despite it's overall decayed look, it stood strong, over two stories, with a long wrap around porch. Many of the roof shingles had slid out of place and tumbled down into the weeds below. The largest visible damage was to a section of the porch roof, which had rotted, and was hanging awkwardly, resembling a huge piece of tree bark. They had hiked through the woods for almost forty minutes to get here, as it had no driveway or path leading to it. Even the clearing it was in appeared long overgrown. The trees ended about ten feet away on all sides; the immediate surrounding ground was covered with twisting weeds and vines. Some of the vines had curled up through the stairs of the porch, making the final approach not much easier than getting through the woods. There was one door located at the front. It was boarded shut with a large square of plywood. The windows, all of the windows, were concealed in a similar manner. This place was not meant to be found, or entered.

"So tell me how you found this place again?" Dean side glances at his Brother as he pushes a hand through his bag.

"I'm not really sure," admits Sam. "I didn't exactly see anything this time. It was different, I just sort of felt where we should go, like intuition."

"Right," says Dean, still getting used to Sam's new directional system. "This place isn't exactly near where the bodies were found." He pulls a short crow bar out of his bag.

"No, but they were all found in the woods along the river. And I'm pretty sure that river runs somewhere behind this place." Sam reaches up and places both hands flat against the wood covering the door. He stares at it intensely, while Dean watches truly perplexed.

"You gonna move that out of the way with your mind there, Jedi Knight?" Sam removes his hands with an okay motion for Dean to go ahead.

"Great." Dean steps forward and uses the crow bar to pull the plywood away from the door. Once it's mostly loose, they both grab hold and rip it out of the way. They open the door and step into a fully furnished house, everything appearing clean and recently used.

"Still think this isn't the place?" asks Sam. They cautiously walk through the entranceway, glancing at, but passing the stairs to the second level. They enter the living room to find it filled with randomly dated furniture. The center of the floor hosts a large hard wood desk of simple design. Dean approaches it. Stooping down, he checks underneath, examining the quality of the woodwork.

"Well this sure as Hell isn't IKEA." He stands and shifts his gaze back to the room. Several heavy steel filing cabinets, and rows of tall, packed bookshelves stretch the length of the floor. The space looks more like a library than a living room. As Dean steps closer to one of the shelves, the wall behind comes into view. There's a swinging door. He and Sam exchange a look. As Dean pushes into the next room, Sam begins to follow, but stops. He brings a hand to his eyes as he begins to see images in flashes: a door, a stairwell leading down to another door, a man, then the images cut short. He cries out slightly as if reacting to a sharp pain. The sound brings Dean back into the room.

"Sam?" Dean walks to his Brother. Placing a hand on Sam's shoulder, he bends forward and tries to look him in the eyes. "You alright?" Sam drops his hand from his eyes. All of the color is drained from his face.

"We need to leave."

"What? We just got here."

"I know, but something's not right."

"Sam, look at this place. Somebody's living here, and given what it took to locate and get in, they don't want to be found. We have no other leads on those deaths. We need to check this out."

"No," Sam says in a determined panic. "We shouldn't be here. Something's… " His words trail off as he struggles to interpret what he's feeling.

"Did you have a vision?"

"It was just," Sam stalls on his words not sure of what he saw. "I can't explain. I just… will you trust me?"

"I do trust you Sam, that's why I followed you here!" Dean can hear anger coating his voice. He stops himself, then continues calmer. "I don't know what you're going through, but you need to admit you don't always know how to accurately interpret all these visions and gut feelings you've been having." Sam begins to question himself. Dean's right, nothing he saw had made sense to him. "Six people are dead," Dean continues, "one found at the end of every month for the last six months. It's almost the end of the month; we need to find out what's causing it." Sam stares at his Brother, digesting logic.

"Okay," agrees Sam, "we take a look around, and then get out of here. But fast."

"Fine. We'll split up." Dean jerks a thumb towards the swinging door. "Stairs to the basement are through the kitchen. You want upstairs or downstairs?"

"Downstairs." Sam answers without hesitation.

"Ten minutes, then back here." Dean waits for Sam's confirmation nod, then turns and heads to the stairwell in the entrance way.

Sam watches him briefly, then goes into the kitchen. There's a table with no chairs. His eyes move to the shelves and counters, this room isn't stocked with smaller items like the others, it's not lived in. He sees the door to the basement. Opening it, he pauses as he glances down the dark stairwell to the bolted door at the bottom. He senses something... or someone.

* * *

So that's the end of chapter 2- I didn't get much feedback the first time I posted this as one large piece, so if you have the time, let me know what you thought. If not, thanks for reading – hope you come back for chapter 3! 


	3. Chapter 3

Sam lies strapped to the table, as Dean continues to tug at his cuffs. Lying motionless, turned away from his Brother, Sam stares diligently at the only door in the room. The more he stares, the more familiar it becomes.

"Did you hear that?" Sam asks without turning.

"What?" Dean quiets his actions.

"A door just opened, someone's coming." Sam holds focus on the door, which as predicted, opens.

A man enters. He's disturbingly calm, older, mid thirties. His hair is dark, and well groomed. His features strong and slightly drawn. He's tall, taller than Sam, and somewhat muscular. He wears a plain dark dress shirt and suit pants. There's something alluring about him, yet his eyes contain a coldness. He walks to the table, unbuttons the cuffs of his shirt, and folds up his sleeves. Keeping his eyes on his watch, he places two fingers at Sam's throat. Sam struggles, but the fingers are pressing so hard, they keep his head pinned to the table. He feels his neck muscles pulse and ripple as his breath chokes through, it becomes difficult to breath.

"Stop…" Sam gasps, the word coming out muffed from the restricted air. The man briefly glances at him, then removes his fingers. He pulls a small notebook and pen from the back pocket of his pants, makes a record, then places them somewhere under the table. He takes Sam's right arm and turns it over exposing the underside, then runs his fingers along the skin. His touch is colder than the steel table. Sam turns to communicate his panicked state to his Brother, but Dean's head hangs unconscious. He's on his own.

He hears the high pitched sound of metal scraping against itself and turns to see the man has pulled a tray out from under the table. It remains attached, hovering next to him, hosting several items he doesn't like the look of. The man picks up a stretch of rubber tubing from the tray and wraps it around Sam's upper arm. He then taps the tender fold of Sam's mid arm. As he leans in for a closer look, a silver charm slips from behind his shirt collar and dangles in front of Sam off a thin chain. It's there for a moment, and then swings back behind the fabric as the man stands upright.

"Make a fist." He finally speaks, his voice strict, his request precise.

"No," Sam argues, "I'm not gonna help you."

"Make a fist," the man states again. Sam looks down at his bare arm, and at the tubing stretched around it, and starts to piece the bigger picture together.

"You wanna take blood? This is how you've been doing it?" Sam's tone becomes heated. "All the bodies, drained of blood. You've…" The man's hand moves with rapid speed up to Sam's face and clamps across his mouth before he can finish his thought. His hand squeezes Sam's jaw with a painful strength. He leans in, his expression shifting with the light on his face, both darker. His left eye glares at Sam in a side view like some sort of animal.

"We're not having a conversation. You can cooperate, or I can make death overwhelmingly painful." The man's lips pull away from his teeth, as he opens his jaw wide revealing two sharp fangs. He leans in letting his breath steam Sam's throat. Sam's own breath pushes rapidly out his nose until the man backs away. He removes his hand from Sam's mouth.

"Go ahead!" Sam shouts defiantly. The man sighs, as his teeth retract into his mouth. He doesn't have patience for games.

"Painful… for your Brother," he states pointedly. Sam looks to Dean. The pounding feeling in his chest slides downward and shifts to nausea. Sam quickly resigns.

"Okay." He makes a fist, pumping blood through his arm. The man returns to work. Lifting a small needle from the tray, he pierces it into Sam's arm, and secures it in place with medical tape. He sets up a clear collection bag, then stretches a thin plastic tube from the bag to the needle. The blood begins to siphon out. Sam watches as his blood rides through the tube and slowly fills the bag.

"So what… you're a vampire?"

The man doesn't even look at him. He simply slides the tray back under the table, and reaches for his notebook. Sam's had it with playing captive, and he'll be dammed if this bastard is going to ignore his only weapon, his voice.

"Answer me!" Sam shouts. The man responds calmly.

"I make it a point never to associate." He leaves the room. The door bolts shut from the other side.

Sam's frustration explodes, he yells loudly, anger pushing straight from his gut. His entire body strains against the straps, then collapses. His breath runs wild.

"You need to calm down." Dean's voice orders from behind. He turns to find Dean struggling to lift himself up towards the pipe. He quickly fails, his lower body dropping back into position. He hangs for a moment. "He's messing with you Sam, and your letting him." Sam doesn't need Dean's criticism.

"I thought you passed out," Sam throws the words at him, clearly angry.

"No." Dean glares, pushing right back. He's more than ready for a fight, but he's smarter than to waist it on Sam. He drops the tone in his voice. "I just didn't want him to know I'm awake. It's not like we have a lot of advantages here." Sam takes a second, then...

"So you heard everything?"

"Hold on." Dean takes a few quick breaths, and this time successfully lifts onto the pipe. He hanging with one leg, and kicks the wall near the pipe with the other. "Yeah, I'm up to speed. Listen, I'm not sure what 's going on, but when I was in the upstairs bedroom, I came across some books, several books actually, with the pages flagged, someone's research."

"Research on what?"

"On a symbol, used to control vampires. The book described dual amulets."

"Aren't amulets traditionally used to ward off evil?" Asks Sam.

"Ward it off, or maybe control it. One amulet's worn by the vampire being controlled, the other by the person doing the controlling."

"Dean, what did it look like?"

"The amulet? Sort of like an ankh, but there was a stone set in the top oval, and the bottom looked like it was wrapped in twine."

"He was wearing it. It dropped out of his shirt when he leaned forward," Sam thinks. "Do you think he's being controlled?"

"Sounds like a definite possibility," Dean says glancing at Sam, "but by who?"

"Whoever's wearing the second amulet." Sam watches as Dean continues to kick at the wall. "Dean, what are you doing?"

"I'm getting us out of here. If I can break away enough of this wall, I should be able to disconnect the pipe."

"Will it take long?"

"How the Hell should I know." Sam rolls his eyes at Dean's reassuring answer, then checks the bag of blood. He notices some lettering on it. It reads 2.5 pints. It's over half full and rising.

"Dean?"

"What?"

"How… how much blood can I lose before… before it's a problem?" Dean side glances at his Brother, concealing his own fears.

"You'll be fine," Dean tries to reasure him. "This isn't going to…"

Dean's voice gradually drifts away from Sam's head, and is replaced by the sounds of pumping, suctioning, and dripping. He can suddenly hear the draining process with an acute and sickening accuracy. He compresses the area between his temples, needing to push the sounds away.

"No…" Sam's moan whispers out, as his head rolls and sinks heavy into the table. "No… stop… sthuuu…" Everything becomes blurred and comfortable. Images ease through his head, and within moments, he's standing back at the top of the stairwell to the basement.

* * *

Well that's the end of chapter 3. As always, thanks for reading! And for those of you who asked to quick postings - I plan on posting the rest of this over the next few days. Thanks!  



	4. Chapter 4

Yo! This chapter has a lot more re-writes from the first time I posted, and I'm a lot happier with it now.

Thanks for all the reviews asking for more! I aim to please, so here's the next chapter…

* * *

Sam stands at the top of the stairwell to the basement. He pauses as he stares to the bolted door at the bottom. Something won't let him go down, a presence. His thoughts shift, and he turns, heading back into the living room. His body continues to move, action preceding thought. He walks up the stairs to the second floor and pauses as he reaches the top. Dean is in the room, second door on the right. Sam steps to the side of the door, presses his back against the wall, and waits. His breathing is slow, his mind isn't thinking, it's following.

Dean steps into the hall cautiously, as if expecting someone. He didn't expect Sam. Before he can get a word out, Sam punches him in the corner of the mouth. Blood wells and drips from the slit in the skin. Dean reacts quickly, striking Sam in the chest with both fists. Sam doesn't budge. He hits Dean harder, just above the eye. As Dean hits the floor, Sam snaps out of the trance that's been guiding him. He stares at Dean, who's lying unconscious at his feet, and runs his hands through his hair, assessing, registering, remembering.

"Shit." Sam lifts his Brother and hauls him down the stairs. He reaches the front door, but it's been re-boarded shut. He stands frozen, his heart pounding quicker and quicker, sounding up the back of his neck, and filling his head. The pounding becomes unnaturally, and unbearably loud. He slowly drops to his knees as Dean slides from his grip to the floor. Sam presses his hands to his head as pain shoots through his skull with each beat. Then it comes again, the same presence he felt in the basement stairwell, stronger, closer. He turns to find the man from his flash vision standing behind him.

Sam tries to speak, but a severe pain cuts through his body, causing the sound of hurt to come out his mouth, rather than words. He struggles with it, but as the pounding resonates in his skull, it all gets the better of him. His shoulders fall limp, his hands drop to his sides, and his head swings slightly back and to the side, pushing his eye line onto Dean, who lies unconscious at his side.

"I messed up," Sam whispers, the anguish in his voice not sourced from physical pain.

Then his body gives out. Sam falls over sideways and lands face first on his Brother, his head coming to rest on Dean's chest. He lies there, barely conscious, eyes open, the horrid pounding of his own heart still beating into him. Gradually, the sound drifts away, and is replaced by the soft beat of his Brother's heart against his ear. The sound calms him, and slowly, everything becomes blurred and comfortable. He lies quietly in darkness, unable to move, then something severs his calm.

"Sam!" It cuts into him. "Sam!" Pushes through his head and down his chest. "Wake up!" He moves his hand, but it doesn't move. He opens his eyes, but they don't open. "Don't do this Sam!" Sam wakes suddenly, his Brother's voice jerking him back.

"Dean." Sam's head flops groggily, confusion washing over him. He's not lying on the floor, or on Dean, as anticipated, he's strapped to the table.

"Sam!" Sam turns to see Dean shouting at him fiercely. "Stay awake!" The concern on Dean's face pisses him off.

"What are you looking at me like that?" Sam shouts. "Worry about that wall!" Dean, a bit taken aback, continues to kick.

"I've got this, but you need to stay awake," Dean demands firmly.

"I am awake!"

"You weren't awake! You were unconscious."

"I wasn't, I was upstairs."

"What?"

"I was in the entranceway."

"Sam, you were here. You haven't gone anywhere."

"But I thought…." His words trail off weakly.

"Sam just hang on." Dean kicks at the wall harder, less precision, more anger. Sam lies quietly for a bit, then starts to moan slightly. Dean tries to stay focused, no matter how distracting his Brother's pain, he can't stop work on dislodging the pipe.

"Dean…." Sam blurts breathily. "I don't feel right. I'm cold."

"It's the blood loss."

"No," he insists. "It's something else." Sam's mind begins to drift again. "I… I can see myself sinking into the dirt… it's black… moist. And my veins… I can see them… they're shifting… cutting inside my body… searching for blood."

At this statement, Dean turns sharply towards Sam, concern and panic getting the better of him. The quick movement, and shift of focus, causes him to slip from the pipe, and drop rapidly back into a dangling hang. He cries out sharply as the cuffs skin his wrists. With this, the door opens and the man enters...

* * *

Chapter 5 is on it's way soonish. Until then, Sam will just have to stay helplessly strapped to the big bad table, and hope that his big bad Brother can save his sorry ass… : ) 


	5. Chapter 5

Here's chapter 5 - sorry this took so long to post, I got slammed with work, and also ended up doing a larger re-write on it than originally planned. 

So, without further delay… here ya go.

* * *

The man walks to the table and removes the full bag of blood. He pulls out a small flashlight, and with his other hand stretches Sam's left eye wide open. Sam's eye shifts about panicked as the light blinds it. 

"I see you're awake," the man says, then turns to Dean. "How are you feeling?"

"Oh I'm great, taller. Thanks for that," Dean answers with his usual smugness.

The man switches to Sam's right eye. He side glances at Dean. "You really shouldn't waste you're energy trying to get out."

"I need something to pass the time," Dean smirks, "it's not like you have a T.V. set up down here." The man smiles, slightly amused, then releases Sam's eye and addresses him.

"Open your mouth," the man states firmly.

Sam can't believe what he's hearing. This guy won't do anything except bark orders at him, but he'll laugh at Dean's jokes?

"Open… you're mouth," he states again with a more threatening tone.

Sam keeps his mouth shut. The man sighs heavily, then reaches down and opens Sam's mouth for him. He pulls at Sam's lips and jaw stretching them apart roughly, inspects the inside of his mouth, then lightens his grip. Sam jerks his head out of the man's grasp, it sways and drops to the side. He lies facing the man, furious with the situation. Then his eyes shift focus as he notices an object at the man's waist. His anger slowly converts to focus.

The man pulls out his notebook and begins writing. He continues to talk with Dean. "You can't save him, Dean." Dean says nothing, he simply fronts his usual cocky expression as the man continues. "That pipe is one solid piece, straight through the wall." Dean keeps his face stoic, as his confidence dissipates. "And the yelling," the man says firmly, "it needs to stop."

"So stop me," Dean offers, attempting to provoke the man closer.

"I won't need to." The man hangs a new, empty blood bag. "With this bag… Dean… Sam won't be _asleep." _

A sick sinking feeling dips in Dean's chest as his throat swallows dry, then anger pushes his true emotions aside. "Stay away from him!" Dean's voice releases into the echoing room, accompanied by a grow like undertone.

"Why do you make requests, you know I can't fill?" The man steps closer. "We discussed this, he has to die."

"I don't care what was discussed." Dean locks eyes with him, trying to will him closer… just a little closer.

"Discussed?" Sam mouths to himself. He turns his head to look at them, then interjects. "Stop it! Dean just stop!" Sam shouts.

"Quite!" The man turns from Dean, and heads back towards Sam. Dean's eyes shut in failure as Sam's words pull the man away from his reach.

"I'm gonna die…" Sam starts as the man's hand slams flat and furious against the table, his anger finally getting the better of him. "Please…" Sam makes eye contact with the man and calmly pushes the words into him. "Take me over to Dean. He _needs_ this." Sam falls silent as the man calms and remains strangely fixated on him. A moment passes, and the man shifts his eyes away. He turns back to Dean.

Dean contains a blankness. The eyes which had so recently showcased confidence, now exhibit only fear. The man removes the needle from Sam's arm.

"I'm retying his hands," the man states addressing Dean. "This is all I can offer you." Dean turns his gaze on the man, trying to interpret where the sudden stint of compassion is coming from, or if it's compassion at all.

The man reaches down and un-straps Sam's arms. He contains Sam's wrists in a single fist as he entwines a short black cord around them. Once knotted, he undoes the remaining straps. Sam edges himself off the table and stands, immediately collapsing, woozy with head rush. He grabs hold of the man and slides down him, catching himself on the man's belt. The man doesn't hesitate, he grabs Sam by the shoulders, drags him over to Dean, and turns him so they face one another. "Say your goodbye."

Sam looks at his Brother, who's deliberately keeping his gaze to the floor.

"Look at me Dean," Sam request, his voice firm. Dean reluctantly looks up. "No matter what you believe. You were never in a position to change this. I brought us here. I let us stay. I'm responsible." Sam glances down twice, then back at his Brother. They're silent for a moment, then…

"Finished?" asks the Man.

"No," says Sam. He pulls himself free from the man's grip, and buckles forward, grabbing Dean's chest for support. Dean winces at the added weight. As blackness consumes Sam's vision, he deliberately lets go and slides to the floor, face and hands landing at Dean's feet.

"You're finished," the man says, rolling Sam over.

Dean stares down at his Brother, silently. Sam's head lolls lifeless to one side. His eyes are shut, his hair mussed and mangled in front of them. His arms lie vertically down his chest, his hands relax limply at his waist, still clasped together by the binding. He's so still, he doesn't even look to be breathing. Dean's jaw tenses as he scrapes his wrists against the metal cuffs above his head. He can't be this helpless. _-- I can't be this helpless.--_

The man reaches to lift his little Brother.

"I'll kill you!" Dean threatens as he kicks the man fiercely in the chest, all of his anger channeled into the impact. The man's only reaction is a swift hit to side of Dean's head with the ball of his hand. Everything shifts, Dean's sight goes dark as he feels his head drop to his chest.

* * *

That was chapter 5. If you can- send me a review and let me know what you think - it helps keep me motivated! I will try and get chapter 6 up within the next week. Thanks for reading! 


	6. Chapter 6

Hey there! First I really want to say thanks to everyone who reviewed! The feedback really helps let me know what you guys like, so hopefully I can give you more. I think adding more angst is a safe bet, so I've been going through and increasing the overall angst factor.

This chapter may seem a little short, but it may be my favorite : ) And oh yeah - FYI: it's a flashback.

* * *

Dean stands in the upstairs bedroom reading through one of the hard bound books on the dresser. He scans the text about the dual amulets used to control vampires. "Two amulets, each containing a stone, one blue, one green…" Dean turns his head sharp towards the door and the sound he just heard. He reaches behind his back, and places a hand on his gun. As he gets closer to the door, he doesn't hear or see anything. He begins to question what he heard. He steps cautiously into the hall and turns. The punch hits him fast and hard. He processes quickly: 

_--it's Sam, his eyes aren't right, something's got him, take him down.--_

Dean strikes, hitting Sam in the chest with both fists. There's no impact. Sam's second punch comes harsher than the first, right above the eye. Dean hits the floor.

Several minutes later, Dean wakes on the floor in the entranceway. He's disoriented, and takes a moment to regain his focus. The first thing he sees clearly is the top of his Brother's head, only a few inches below his own chin. He can feel the weight of Sam's body against him. Sam lies unconscious, his chest against Dean's, his face turned to one side, his right arm heaped across his older Brother's waist. Dean reaches a hand up and places it lightly into Sam's hair, the soft, sweat matted locks section out between his knuckles.

"Sammy?" Dean says the name softly, attempting to rouse him. There's no response. Dean takes a moment, then pushes himself up with his other arm. Feelings of unease shutter through him concerning his surroundings, but his thought process is unorganized, and he keeps with his initial concern… Sam. He gently slides Sam to the floor, and onto his back. He moves himself onto his knees, and takes Sam's wrist into his hand. He presses his thumb against the protruding vein, and feels for a repetitive beat.

As the vein pulses against Dean's thumb, he senses something. He drops Sam's arm, draws his gun, and turns sharply, pointing it directly at the tall eerie looking man standing behind him.

"Who are you?" Dean demands. The man simply makes eye contact, and Dean's expression quickly calms. Dean puts the gun on the floor and turns back to Sam. He doesn't understand his actions; he questions them internally:

_--What the Hell are you doing putting the gun down?-- _

_-Pick up Sam.- _

_--Why didn't you shoot?-- _

-_Pick him up.-_ Dean reaches his arms under his Brother, and lifts Sam to his chest. Sam's head hangs back at an angle; his right arm dangles out to his side. Dean looks at him, trying to will himself to put Sam down, to grab the gun back up into his hands, to shoot this guy, to protect his kid Brother. He doesn't do any of those things, instead he stands and follows orders. _-Follow me.- _

_--Get the Hell out of my head!-- _Dean pushes back at the contradicting thoughts.

_-Follow me!- _

_--Put Sam down and kill this guy damn it!-- _Dean clearly hears two voices in his head. One is his, the other is in control.

Dean follows the man through the kitchen, and down the stairs to the basement. Upon entering, he sees a long solid table with straps on it. The voice continues to instruct him. He lies Sam on the table, straps down his arms and legs, then fastens the larger straps across his chest and waist. The moment Dean pulls the final strap tight, the next order enters his head.

_-Walk to the back of the room.-_ Dean's muscles shake as he fights the voice, begging his body to stay near his Brother. He tries to focus his mind on Sam, but the voice pushes through severing his will. Dean's face tenses as his lower lip begins to tremble harshly. He cries out in pain as his body turns him away from Sam and walks him to the back of the room. The man approaches him, inflicting a penetrating stare.

_-Give me your hand.-_ Dean obediently holds out his right hand. The man promptly fastens a hand cuff around it. _-Arms up. Now!-_ Dean stretches both arms above his head and over a pipe near the ceiling. He holds them there as the man completes the bond. When the second cuff clicks shut, the voice exits Dean's head, leaving his own voice in control.

"Damn it!" Dean gasps out, feeling as if he's been holding his breath for the past ten minutes.

"You knew fighting was pointless," the man says, "and now you know it's painful." He reaches down, and takes the knife Dean keeps concealed on his lower leg. "However, I am impressed you realized I was there."

"It doesn't take a real brain to figure out that voice wasn't coming from me."

"Actually, most tend _not_ to question it." The man stands calmly, studying Dean, intrigued. "You're more of an interest than I anticipated."

"Well don't I feel special." Dean notices a slight smile emerge on the man. He makes a move. "So now that we're buddies, how 'bout you tell me why you had me strap him there?"

"I can't take a chance with him. His abilities, you should have paid more attention to helping him cope with them." Dean's eyes narrow.

"What are you saying?"

"When I took control of you, you couldn't fight. When I took control of you're Brother, he didn't fight. He trusted, and listened, because he thought it was coming from him."

"So when he took me down, that was you I saw in his eyes?"

"Had he realized the instructions were from a foreign source, he could have used his abilities to overpower me."

"Sam's smarter than you give him credit."

"It's not about smart. He's scared, Dean. _Lost_." The words hit Dean hard. "As a result, he doesn't control his powers, they control him. I control him."

"Stay away from him!"

"Don't worry. Soon none of this will be a problem, I'm going to take care of it. Now…" The man's voice enters Dean's head:

_-It'll be better if you go to sleep.- _Dean fights to stay awake, but his sight goes dark as he feels his head drop to his chest.

* * *

Thanks for reading! Let me know your thoughts : )  
How was the whole emotional battle with Dean trying to protect his Sam?

Thanks! - Kate


	7. Chapter 7

Hey there!  
FYI - I came up with this before "Dead Man's Blood" aired, so this story abides by my vampire rules, (standard vampire rules) not Supernatural vampire rules. Thanks!

Now onto chapter 7…

* * *

Dean start to wake. His eyes are shut, and he's not entirely sure where he is, then he feels the familiar pain of the cuffs slicing into his wrists. He slowly opens his eyes, his gaze is straight down, all he can see are his legs and feet. Then, something else comes into focus.

"Son of a Bitch." The key to the handcuffs is jammed into the laces of his shoe. He looks up and around the room. The man is gone, Sam lies unconscious on the table, the tube hooked back into his arm, draining into the second bag.

"Sam," he breaths the name. Despite the odd mixture of pain and numbness throughout his body, Dean works fast. He hauls his legs up onto the pipe, grabs the key, and struggles it into the lock. He shifts his weight off the cuffs, unlocks them, and drops to the floor. It takes some effort to move himself. His legs get him over to Sam, but his arms need more to recover. They shake uncooperatively as he stumbles through the simple task of removing the needle from his Brother's arm. He pulls it out, and while bending Sam's arm to stop the bleeding, checks the level of blood in the bag. It's still mostly empty. He leans over Sam, grabs his shoulder, and shakes him. "Sam. Sammy, wake up. Come on, you know you're too damn heavy for me to carry to the car."

Nothing. Sam continues to lie motionless. Dean feels a jab of panic as he grasps his Brother's hand. "Come on… I need you to wake up for me." His voice gets louder. "Sam wake up!" Dean slides his right hand from Sam's shoulder, up his neck, and cups it against his Brother's face. He stares at him intensely, breath increasing, fear rising, a struggle of emotions verse logic fighting it out in his head.

_-- Shit! This isn't happening… he's okay… he's fine. You're fine Sammy, Come on… wake up! Please… please wake up. Damn it Sammy! Don't do this!--_

_-Stop calling me Sammy!-_

Dean hears Sam snap at him, and questions his sanity as he continues to stare down at his unconscious Brother. He dismisses it quickly as he feels his Brother begin to stir against his hands.

Sam wakes slowly. His eyes blink open and focus on his Brother. He smiles slightly, then smirks as he eyes the way Dean is holding his hand and face. Dean hastily withdraws his hands in an obvious effort to casually let go of his Brother.

"Nice of you to join me," Dean jabs, covering his concern. Sam just keeps smiling.

"Found the key?" He asks weakly.

"Found the key. How the Hell did you manage that?"

"I'm better at this than you," Sam gloats.

"On occasion," Dean admits. "Nice speech, by the way." Dean adds sarcastically.

"Thanks." Sam props himself up with one arm, and motions towards the floor by the end of the table. "You're bag's over there." Dean finishes un-strapping Sam's legs and reaches for his bag. He pulls a wooden steak out of it. Sam's eyes widen. "What the Hell is that doing in there?"

"Guess we both have our moments." Dean smirks.

"Congratulations, now lets kill this bastard and get out of here."

"Fine by me," agrees Dean. Sam glances Dean up and down.

"Wait a minute. You_ are _taller."

"Really?" Dean asks hopefully. As Sam lets out a slight laugh, he loses consciousness. His eyes drop shut, as the arm which is holding him up buckles, causing him to slip fast back toward the table. Dean reaches out quickly and catches him by the shirt before he hits. He lowers him the rest of the way, then pauses for a moment, there's something hard caught in the center of the fabric clinched in his fist.

Dean lets go of the shirt and reaches under the collar. His fingers feel a couple of inches down Sam's chest and come to an object on a chain. He pulls it from beneath the shirt. It's one of the amulets.

"Why is this on you?" Dean asks himself as the brief relief he felt for his Brother's safety slips away. "Shit."

"You're only delaying his death." The man's voice comes from behind him. "And hastening your own." Dean grabs the steak in his left fist and swipes it back over his shoulder. As he turns, he plunges it forward. The man's hand swiftly meets Dean's wrist, squeezing. Dean strains as the compression forces his hand open. The steak slips, making a hollow, echoing sound as it hits the floor.

"What do you really want with Sam?" Dean's voice pushes roughly from his gut. "Answer me!" He grabs Sam's amulet in his other fist. "Why is this on him?"

"You were going through my things earlier, you tell me," the man challenges. Dean looks at Sam's amulet. It contains a clear blue stone.

"There's two amulets…" He thinks back to the text. "…the blue stone's worn by the one in control…"

"No!" He cuts Dean off. "The one in control," the man pulls the green stoned amulet from under his own shirt, "wears the green stone. The blue stone, is worn by the vampire." Dean looks at Sam.

"No." Dean shakes his head. "Sam's no vampire."

"True, for now. But as soon as I drain enough blood, he'll die, he'll change, and I'll have control of him."

"I'm not gonna let you do that."

"Really. How are you going to stop me?"

"Well for starters…" Dean pulls Sam's amulet harshly with intent to break the chain from his neck. It doesn't break, it just sort of jerks Sam a half inch off the table. Dean continues to tug lamely as he gives the man a sheepish grin. "Huh, that didn't really work the way I intended." The man smiles, sincerely amused.

"You can't remove it Dean. The process has already begun. That's on him until the bond is broken," then offhandedly, "or all eternity."

"What do you mean, 'the process has already begun'?" Dean questions him, his anger rising. The man lets go of Dean's arm and lifts Sam slightly, leaning him forward. He pulls the back collar of his shirt down. There are two small circular holes, the skin raw around the edges, blood caking the centers shut. Frustration and anger rush through Dean as his eyes inspect the small, life altering wounds on his Brother's neck.

"When did you do that?"

"Just after you brought him down here. I told you I was going to take care of it." The man stretches out his arm, showing Dean a recent cut on his own wrist. "We made an exchange."

"No. This doesn't make sense. Why him? You've killed six people, why none of them? Why not me?"

"Oddly, I'd welcome your permanent company, but you don't have what I need." Dean suddenly realizes what he's after.

"Sam's abilities."

"They make him valuable."

"You have your own powers…"

"Mine are _nothing_ compared to what Sam will be capable of once he's fully turned." A tinge of resentment enters his voice. "Hell, he's only partially turned and his abilities are already stronger than mine. How do you think he got me to let him out?"

"Fine, so he's strong. Why do you need him?"

"I'm immortal, not indestructible. Having control of his powers will ensure my survival."

"That's it? You're killing him, so you can survive?"

"Pretty much. Now, enough about Sam, it's time we take care of you."

The man shifts his gaze intending to make eye contact, but Dean quickly turns away and shuts his eyes.

"Open your eyes." The man says impatiently.

"No." Dean turns to face him, eyes shut. "You're not gonna take me like that. You want me out of the way, you're gonna have to do it by force!"

"Fine," the man reaches out, grabs Dean at the throat ,and lifts him off the ground, "I have no problem with that."

* * *

Hope you enjoyed chapter 7. Thanks for your patience with the slow speed of my postings, and thanks for continuing to read.

Always love to hear your reactions to the story, so all reviews are really appreciated!

Chapter 8 will be the final chapter - So tune in next time for the conclusion!


	8. Chapter 8

Hey everyone!

So here is the last Chapter of "Control"… finally!

I want to thank everyone who reviewed along the way, the reviews really make a difference, and even pushed me to do a total re-write on this final chapter. I'm much happier with how it turned out compared with the first version!

I also want to say thanks to both Mishka and Melja for sending me encouraging words to keep going when I was stuck. And extra special thanks to Carocali for her feedback on this final chapter.

That said…

* * *

CONTROL - CH 8 

"…Now, enough about Sam, it's time we take care of you." The man shifts his gaze intending to make eye contact, but Dean quickly turns away and shuts his eyes. "Open your eyes." The man says impatiently.

"No." Dean turns to face him, eyes shut. "You're not gonna take me like that. You want me out of the way, you're gonna have to do it by force!"

"Fine," the man reaches out, grabs Dean at the throat, and lifts him off the ground, "I have no problem with that."

He throws Dean across the floor. Dean's chest hits the cement and scraps against its ripping texture until he hits the wall. Anger rises in the man's voice. "How did you know to close your eyes?"

"You think I couldn't tell how you got in last time?" As Dean attempts to stand he feels himself being grabbed from behind. He's lifted clear off the floor and re-planted firm on his knees.

"You're smart. Too bad figuring out how to stop me is accelerating your death, not prolonging it." The man grabs Dean's right arm and twists it behind his back, holding him so he can't move.

"What I don't get is Sam," Dean continues. "You couldn't have made eye contact. No matter what you say, if he knew you were there, he'd have figured out the impulses weren't his own. He would have overpowered you."

Dean feels the man's cold fingers comb up his neck and into the back of his hair. They grip at his scalp tearing and knotting their way into a solid hold.

"I didn't need eye contact with Sam. His abilities create an open gateway for that sort of thing. I could connect to them from miles away. That's how I found him. That's how I got him here."

"That damn trek through the woods!" Dean thinks out loud. "The way Sam lead us here. That wasn't intuition…"

"Knowing the truth doesn't alter your current situation, and I'm sorry Dean, but it's time for this situation to end."

The man arches his shoulders back sharply, cracking his neck, then stretches his mouth wide. His eyes glaze over becoming almost reflective, and two sharp fangs protrude from his mouth. He lowers them to Dean's neck and drags them across the skin, feeling for a spot to enter. When he comes to the lower part of Dean's neck, he stops. He begins to push them into the skin, then shutters, pulling in a sharp gasp of air. The glazed look drops from his eyes.

A thin stream of blood slides down each fang and pools in the indented skin of Dean's neck. The man lifts his mouth, and watches as the blood continues to drip. Dean feels the man's grip on him tighten and then let go. The man wipes the blood on Dean's neck away with the edge of his hand, revealing unbroken skin. He jerks sharply, his chest pulling in and up towards his neck, then drops to his knees. His upper body falls forward to reveal the wooden stake sticking out of his back. Dean turns to see the man cringing, with Sam leaning over him, both hands still clasping the stake. The man wipes the blood from his mouth and turns to Sam.

"You shouldn't have done that," the man scolds Sam.

"Why, don't like what it's going to do to you?" asks Sam.

"No, you won't like what it's going to do to you." The man glances at the amulet which dangles from Sam's neck. Sam looks down at it, the focus dropping from his face as he tries to piece together why it's on him. He reaches a hand up and touches it, however his hand quickly moves from the stone to his chest as he feels a sharp pain shoot from his back out through all his limbs. Sam begins to gag slightly as a small amount of blood trickles from his mouth. He feels the man's thoughts enter his head.

_--Remove the stake from my back.-- _He instructs. Sam hears the words, then feels the command move through his head and out to his muscles. His fist involuntarily tightens around the stake, then pulls it from the man's back. Both men cry out in pain as the action is completed. Sam falls slightly forward, he looks to Dean.

Dean can see the confusion and fear in his brother's eyes. He rushes at the man and grabs him by the throat.

"Stop it!" Moments after he grips the man's neck he hears Sam choke out two soft breathy words behind him.

"Dean…. stop." Dean turns to see Sam gasping for air, and realizes that whatever pain he's causing the man, he's simultaneously inflicting on his brother.

"Sam?... shit." Dean lets go of the man's throat and instead grabs him by the shirt collar, he pulls him close.

"That's enough! Let Sam go!" Dean demands glaring down at him. The man smiles slightly.

"You made eye contact." The man enters Dean's head._ --You're the one finding it hard to breath.-- _Suddenly Dean struggles for breath. He lets go of the man's shirt and clutches at his own throat as he drops back onto the floor_. --You're going to help me finish this Dean.--_ The man instructs as he begins to regain his strength.

_-I won't.-_ Dean resists.

_--You don't have a choice.-- _Dean feels the man's voice moving through his mind, grasping hold._ --The book of the amulets, upstairs on the dresser. I need it.--_

Sam, slowly recovering, pushes himself back upright. Pain continues to run throughout his body, but he briskly dismisses it as his focus fixes on Dean. Sam watches as his brother fights for air. Without hesitation he grabs the man by the shoulders and pushes him to the floor.

"Enough!" Sam shouts, having no impact. Dean continues to struggle as the man ignores Sam and feeds Dean more instructions.

_--Get the book and bring it to me.-- _

Sam feels the need to save his brother build with an intense energy in his chest. Without understanding what he's doing, he pulls the energy up to his head, and forms a solid thought, -_-Release Dean.-- _ The thought almost seems to take physical shape. He feels a clear tunnel form between his own mind and the man's, then the words shoot through and force themselves into the man's thoughts. Sam senses the two energies meet, his own will overpowering the man's control of Dean.

The man jerks slightly as his connection with Dean is severed, and Dean falls forward gasping for air. The man immediately attempts to repeat his instructions, only to find he can't regain contact. He turns back to Sam, furious.

Sam senses another tunnel form between them, but this time it's coming from the man. _--Let go of me!-- _ Sam feels the man's words push into his head, but quickly blocks them. He pushes the words back out, then mentally severs the tunnel the man has formed.

Sam is both overwhelmed and exhausted by what he's done. He doesn't fully understand what's going on, but can sense a more wide spread change in his body. His thoughts race as he tries to comprehend what's happening to him. All he can be sure of, is that the man in front of him is to blame.

"What did you do to me?" Sam demands with a fierceness. Again, a tunnel is formed and Sam's firm request for answers races into the man's head, linking the two of them together for several seconds.

Sam's mind works like a computer downloading files as an overload of information siphons into his head. Everything which could potentially answer his question is rapidly relayed to him…

…all the events, all the research, all the plans. The experience punctuates with Sam understanding the man's final intensions, he is to be transformed and controlled for his abilities.

The knowledge hits him abruptly.

This whole time, the entire time he had been strapped to the table, Sam had felt himself not only dying, but changing. He felt his veins and blood shifting in physical make up, his senses heightening to an acute awareness, and his abilities developing a clarity and strength, but he had chosen to ignore it all for fear of what it actually was, to ignore what he was becoming.

Sam focuses his mind back to his surroundings. He runs his tongue along the underside of his upper teeth and stops when he feels the beginnings of short fangs protruding at the front. Enraged, he grabs the wooden stake from the floor, and raises it single fisted above his head. As he begins the downward motion, the man reaches up and grabs hold. The two struggle, but Sam slowly wins, the stake lowering to the man's heart.

"We're bound to one another, kill me, and you die too," the man warns.

"Fine by me!" Sam says with a growl and pushes the stake slowly into the man's skin. As it pierces through, both men cry out in pain.

"Sam no!" Dean shouts and also grabs the stake, bringing it's movement to a stop.

"Let me do it Dean!" Sam insists through gritted teeth. "He has to die!"

"But you don't! There's got to be another way." Dean's thoughts turn to the book. The man had wanted it for some reason, if there's a way to break the bond of the amulets, the answer is in that book. Suddenly Dean hears Sam's voice in his head.

_--You're right Dean, we need the book.--_ Dean's eye's widen. He hears Sam, yet Sam didn't speak.

_-What the…- _Dean thinks, thrown by what he heard. Then Sam's voice comes again.

_--Same as him, Dean. I'm in your head same as him. Now go get the book.-- _ Dean briefly looks down at the man, who is struggling to overpower Sam and remove the stake pricking his chest. Dean pauses, needing to judge if Sam will be strong enough to control the situation until he returns._ --Dean, I've got him. Just go!--_ Dean briefly glances up at his brother, then takes off out the basement door and up the stairs. He barely reaches the kitchen when he again hears Sam.

_--Dean, I've been in this guy's head.--_ Dean sprints through the living room, then takes the steps upstairs two at a time, listening to Sam the whole way. _--His original plan may have been to use me for my powers, but I'm also a safety net, and by shoving that stake in his back, I've put him in danger. He wants the book so he can move to plan 'B'.-- _

"And what's plan 'B'?" Dean asks out loud as he enters the bedroom.

_--To steal my life force and abilities as his own.-- _

"I don't like plan 'B'." He locates the book and begins skimming the pages.

_--Don't worry,--_ responds Sam, _--he can't do anything until after I die and transform._--

"Oh, well… so long as it's not until _after_ you die…"

_--Our other advantage…-- _

"We had a first advantage?"

_--I have to die from blood loss. If I'm killed another way, the bond won't form, I'll just die.-- _

"So we have no advantage. Got it. Now enough with the monologue of info, how does he do it?" Dean asks. There's a slight pause, then Sam answers.

_--He stabs me in the throat with a wooden stake, then performs… sort of a transfusion.-- _Sam finishes reluctantly.

"_Sort of_ a transfusion… Sam?"

_-- He absorbs all my blood into his system directly through an open vein.-- _

"All your blood? Okay, so… we'll wanna avoid that. What's he need the book for?" Dean continues to skim the pages for anything that might help."

_-- After he stabs me, he has to state an incantation to induce the transfusion. He can't remember it. Dean, I need you to find the incantation.--_

"What? Sam, I don't mean to be a pain in the ass here, but how will that help you?"

_-- I think I can reverse it on him, stab him first. --_

"Wait. It's here." Dean carefully reads the passage he's on, which describes in detail the exchange Sam just described. "You're right. You can flip the whole thing, kill him, steal his life force and powers."

_-- And the incantation?-- _

"There's two parts," Dean begins. "The first part induces extreme blood loss." Dean pauses and thinks to himself. _-I wonder if that's anything like Xtreme Mountain Dew?-_

_--Dean, I can hear your thoughts.--_

"Right, sorry. After you stab him, first you think, 'The power is in the blood'. Then you say, 'Release your blood.'

_--That's it?--_ Sam asks, his voice coming through a little shaky.

"No, that just makes him bleed. To absorb his blood, take his life force and powers, you think, 'The power is mine', then say, 'Give me your blood'.

_--So maybe if I… if I do the first part and not the… -- _Sam's stops mid thought.

"Sam, you okay?" Dean jumps in immediately concerned.

_--Yeah… yeah fine. If I do the first part of the incantation, but don't do the second part … I'll be able to kill him and sever the bond without absorbing his life force and powers.--_

"From what it says here, I think you can do that, so long as the draining process isn't too far in."

_--Meaning?-- _Sam questions weakly.

"Meaning if you've lost too much blood, Sam… you won't survive," Dean states firmly.

_--But… ah…--_ Sam's voice becomes increasingly breathy and choppy. _-- But… I should be okay right? Cause… cause a… -- _Sam struggles through his last few words.

"Sam… what's wrong?"

_--Ah… no… he… no… -- _

"Sam? Sammy!" There's a moment of silence, then Dean hears Sam cry out in pain. The sound rushes through his head, accompanied by a sharp, cutting feeling which runs down his right wrist and across his hand. Dean grabs his hand, but the pain is already gone. "What the…?" Dean pauses, somehow knowing the pain he just felt came from Sam. "He's in trouble," Dean whispers.

He turns and runs out of the room, then rushes down the stairs towards the main level of the house. Halfway through the living room, he hears Sam.

_--Dean… stop.-- _

Dean comes to a halt in the middle of the living room. "Sammy?"

_--I need you to distract him… distract him so I can stab him.--_

"Sam what's wrong? Talk to me."

_--I messed up. Just distract him, I'll take care of the rest.--_ Dean glances briefly at the shelves of books that surround him. _--And Dean, don't let him in your head. You've read the incantation… he'll know.--_

"Got it. I'm on my way." Dean grabs some collateral from one of the shelves, then rushes through the kitchen and back down the basement stairs. As he shoves the basement door open, he tries to heed Sam's warning. He knows he can't afford to make eye contact with the man, but also can't pull his site from what's in front of him.

The man is backed up against the heavy table holding Sam before him. Sam struggles weakly, and pointlessly. His left arm is twisted up behind his back, his right arm hangs pined to his side. The man pulls him close, keeping an arm wrapped around Sam's chest. In his hand he holds the wooden stake. He presses it threateningly to Sam's throat. Dean assesses the situation, suddenly noticing Sam's right hand. There is a deep gash which runs vertically across his wrist and down through his palm. The blood drains from it quickly, dripping to the floor, forming a large puddle. Dean unconsciously rubs his right hand, as he consciously confirms his earlier suspicion. He has only a second to absorb the full image before Sam's voice enters his head.

_--Dean turn away!--_ Dean feels Sam's order enter his head and shoot through to his body, it takes hold of his muscles, commanding him to move without his consent. He immediately turns away.

_-Shit Sammy.-_ Dean thinks as he takes in the amount of blood his brother has lost. With little time, he re-assesses their overall situation.

"Give me the book." The man demands. Dean, who has no game plan, improvises his way forward.

"I'll give you the book," he agrees, "but you have to release Sam."

"Fine," the man lies. "Bring it here." Dean keeps his eyes from the man as he slowly approaches them with the book. He focuses his thoughts and talks to Sam.

_-Sam, I'll distract him,-_ Dean glances at the growing pool of blood on the floor_, -but you've lost too much blood. You're gonna have to complete the full incantation and take your chances on what it does to you… got it?-_ At first there's no answer, then….

_--Yeah,-- _Sam says, resolve in his voice. _--I got it.--_ As Dean hears Sam's confirmation, he takes a final step towards the man, and holds out the book.

"Open it," he man snaps. Dean opens the book and slowly starts to flip through the pages waiting for the man to catch on. It happens quickly.

"This isn't the book!" The man yells as he presses the stake into Sam's neck, pricking the skin open. Sam gasps sharply as his eyes clinch shut. His face contorting in both pain and anger. Dean briefly considers grabbing the stake, but instead chooses a different tactic.

"I read the book, as soon as you know the incantation, you'll kill him!"

_--Dean, no!--_ Sam's voice enters Dean's head in a confused panic.

"You've read it?" The man asks, realizing the information he needs is within his grasp. "Look at me!" He commands. When Dean doesn't respond, the man chances removing the stake from Sam's neck. He reaches out, stake in hand, and grabs Dean by the face.

_-Now Sam!-_ Dean signals. Sam grabs hold of the stake, and pulls it from the man's hand. The man moves to take it back, but is too late. Sam plunges it upward, through the flesh, into the man's throat.

Sam pushes the necessary words at his enemy. _--The power is in the blood.-- _

"Release your blood!" Sam expels the words with force, then releases the stake. He steps back as the blood begins to pour in severe amounts from the man's throat. Dean looks to Sam waiting for him to say the second half of the incantation, but Sam only glances nervously at him.

"Sam, what are you doing? Finish the incantation!" Dean shouts. Sam continues to back away, shaking his head.

"Sorry Dean," Sam gets out shakily, "I can't take a chance on what I'd become."

"Sam no!" Dean moves towards him, but Sam quickly enters his head.

_-- Stay where you are Dean.--_ The order shoots through Dean, seizing all of his muscles. He tries to speak, but can't even move his lips. He turns to his thoughts and silently begs Sam to save himself.

_-Sam, please… you've lost too much blood… you'll die.- _

_--I can't Dean. I can't become what we hunt.-- _ Dean is about to argue when both of their focus is violently pull away.

The man lets lose a torturous scream as massive amounts of blood drain from his system. He pulls the stake from his throat and throws it to the floor, but it does no good. The blood continues to flow, emptying him completely. His flesh turns grey and leathery, retracting and shriveling in on itself. The man clutches his chest and drops to the ground as his top layer of skin cracks apart into crumbling ashen flecks. He writhes in agony, while small bits of him chunk apart leaving gaping crevices throughout his body. Finally the screaming stops. His body tenses, and comes to a still.

_--Huh,--_ both brothers think. -_-Xtreme blood loss.-- _

Just as fast as their focus had shifted to the man, it shifts away. Sam gasps loudly and clutches his chest, the pain in his body evident. Dean watches powerless, as Sam staggers backward and slams into the table he had earlier been strapped to. The moment he hits, he drops to his knees. Dean struggles to break free of Sam's hold on him, but is stuck in the confines of his restricted muscles.

_-Sam… let me go.-_ Dean begs. Sam shakes his head slightly as weakness overcomes him. He falls forward, throwing his hand out to brace himself up. Sam feels his hand land firmly in warm thick liquid. He glances down to realize his injured hand is palm down in the pool of his own blood. Sam feels his insides start to shift, and his chest pulse rapidly. He glances up at Dean with confused, panicked eyes. Dean, finally stops his struggle against Sam's hold, as his brother's fear consumes him.

"Dean," Sam barely finishes whispering the name, when his head cocks back sharply. He hollers in agony as his entire body shutters brutally. Sam's face tenses in anguish as the pool of blood which his hand rests in draws itself up into Sam's veins. The puddle retracts, the liquid flowing up Sam's wrist and back between his severed skin, until the floor is clean of blood. The entire time Dean struggles to get to him, but Sam's hold remains. Finally, Sam's head drops back down. He gasps heavily, and briefly looks to Dean. Dean feels Sam try to speak, and waits for words that don't come. Sam's eyes flicker shut, his arm gives out from under him, and he collapses flat to the floor. As Sam hits, Dean is immediately released.

Dean staggers forward, stopping as he realizes he no longer senses Sam's presence. _-Sammy?-_

Dean kneels beside his brother. Placing a hand on his back, he slides it around Sam's side and down beneath him, onto his chest. He gently rolls him over, then pulls his kid brother into his lap. "Sammy?" Dean waits, Sam's lies motionless. Dean presses his fingers to Sam's neck, feeling for a pulse. He feels nothing. He leans forward and holds his cheek near Sam's mouth. Again, he feels nothing. Dean clinches his eyes shut as the anger slowly fills him. His lips tighten and a slight snarl peaks his upper lip. When he opens his eyes, they fall directly on the amulet which is lying a top Sam's chest. Dean's jaw tremors. He sits back up.

"You're fault. You're fucking fault!" Dean reaches out for the amulet with every intension of ripping it from his brother's neck. As his hand darts forward, Sam suddenly jerks upright, clinching his chest, and drawing in a long painful sounding breath. Dean moves away slightly, disoriented by his brother's sudden and unexpected recovery.

"Sammy?" He reaches out again, this time grabbing Sam by the shoulders and turning him towards him. "Hey… hey! You okay?" Sam continues to gasp for air, slowly bringing his breath into a controlled rhythm.

"I… I…" Sam starts between breaths.

"Slow down…" Dean insists, placing a hand on Sam's shoulder, "catch your breath."

"I… don't know what happened, Dean. I just put my hand in my blood. I didn't say anything, but … " Sam pauses, as Dean gazes at him, noticeably concerned. "It was like… it was calling me, the blood… and then I thought 'Give me my blood', and a it came to me. I mean… is it just me, or was that incredibly gross?" Sam asks finally looking at his brother. Dean smiles slightly before responding.

"Ah.. no, it wasn't just you."

"Okay… good… so long as we agree." Sam collapses back down into his brother's lap sliding his hands over his face. He breaths heavily, then lifts his hands away and looks at them. "The cut's gone." The cut on Sam's right wrist and hand are gone, completely healed. Dean takes Sam's hand and looks at it.

"Sit up," Dean instructs. Sam pushes himself up. "Hey, slowly." Dean cautions. "Lean forward, let me see the back of your neck." Sam does as he's told.

"Where he bit me, is it still there?" Sam asks, fully aware of what his brother is checking.

"No. It's clean, just like your hand." Dean pushes Sam's shirt back into place and looks him over examining his condition.

"So um… ya think… am I free?" Sam asks.

"I'm not sure. But he said the amulet would stay on you until the bond was broken," Dean rolls his eyes slightly, "or all eternity." Sam glances at the amulet, then at Dean. They exchange a look, then Dean reaches out and grabs it. He gives it a harsh yank. Sam winces a little. It doesn't break free.

A look of open concern flushes over Dean. His hand drops away from the amulet as his eyes fix on Sam. Sam raises an eyebrow, staring at Dean as if something's wrong with him. He reaches behind his neck, unclasps the necklace, and tosses it to Dean.

"Right," says Dean, "didn't think of that." Sam puts a hand on Dean's shoulder and smiles. Then he braces himself a bit on Dean and stands. "Hey, you okay to do that?" Dean asks.

"What? Stand?" Sam sees Dean's continued concern, and lets up a little. "Yeah, I'm okay… really." He holds out a hand to his brother. Dean grabs it and pulls himself up next to Sam.

"Hey, um… grab my bag, will ya?" Dean asks.

"Sure," Sam agrees, a bit surprised by the request, and walks over to get the bag on the floor by the table.

Dean stares at the man's body, hate filling him. This guy had brought him to levels of helplessness he'd never experienced. Dean steps over to the remains and notices that the amulet is no longer on him. It's lying on the floor, just under his neck, unclasped. Dean stoops down and picks it up. Now holding both amulets, he stares at them briefly, then looks up at the man's shriveled body. Dean stands, slides the amulets into his pocket, and eyes the floor. When he sees what he's looking for, he steps over the man's body and picks it up. Dean rolls the wooden stake in his hand, its tip still covered in blood. He lifts it above his head, and slams it down fiercely, straight into the man's heart. He steps away, and over to Sam. Sam raises an eyebrow.

"Just making sure," Dean explains.

"Uh, huh," Sam says, fully aware Dean's actions were purely about vengeance. "So uh…" Sam's words drop short as he cringes, then moans. He grabs hold of Dean's shirt, and falls slightly forward, simultaneously clutching his chest. Dean freaks, unsure of what his act of vengeance may have just caused.

"Sammy!" He cries out. Sam drops the act, stands up straight, and smiles.

"Yeah Dean?" He says with a big grin on his face. Dean punches him hard in the chest, truly mad. Sam buckles forward for real.

"Jerk! I can't believe you did that!"

"Just lightening the mood," Sam says rubbing his chest.

"It wasn't funny!"

"It was a little funny," Sam says with a laugh.

"For you maybe!"

"Oh well, _yeah_ for me. Of course, for me." Sam laughs some more and puts a hand on Dean's shoulder. Dean shoves it away.

"Get off me." He shakes his head, a slight smile escaping his lips.

"Come on," Sam says hitting Dean's shoulder, "let's get out of here." Sam heads for the door. Dean follows, but then one minor point occurs to him.

"Um… Sammy… do you know how to get back to the car?" Dean asks remembering the ridiculous hike to get here.

"Uh… not exactly," admits Sam, "but I found my way in."

"Actually, Xtreme vampire dude found your way in."

"Oh yeah. Well… you like hikes, right?" Sam smirks and heads off.

Dean sighs, "I hate this day."

* * *

The end ; )

* * *

Please -please review, they really do make a writer's day, and this being the final chapter, I'd love to know your thoughts - especially if you enjoyed it! 

I have some thoughts for a sequel, but I'm not sure yet... anybody interested?

ALSO- I just posted the first chapter to my next story:

"Energies and Ice Cream"

It's sort of a mix of snarky banter and angst. Here's a quick teaser. Hope it's enough to convince you to check it out.

* * *

Dean entered the empty convenience store. He slowly approached the counter, stopping abruptly as his eyes caught site of the floor. There was a small pool of blood, and a long smear of blood trailing away from it which seemed to lead towards the back of the store. Dean stepped closer, drawing his gun. He stooped down to inspect the floor. In addition to the trail of blood, there were several bloody handprints smashed and smeared into the dirty cream colored tiles. He was about to stand back up when his eyes landed on an object tossed on its side, next to the counter. 

Dean reached out and picked up Sam's phone. It was covered in blood, and still open. Nausea tightened its way into Dean's gut.

"Shit Sammy, what the fuck did you get yourself into?" Dean flipped the phone shut and slid it into his back pocket. He stood up and slowly followed the trial of blood, making his way to the back of the store. "This better not be your blood. This better not be _your_ damn blood." The trail curved through the isles, and finally lead to a closed door marked 'Employees Only'. Dean raised his gun and prepared himself for whatever might be inside.


End file.
